Forgotten Exiles
by Behold the Void
Summary: Takes place around the current Japanese manga release. A team of exiled Shinigami fight against the Arrancar in their own way.
1. Message from an Old Man

Forgotten Exiles

Chapter 1: Message from an Old Man

Author's Notes: This is a Bleach fanfiction, obviously. It will begin around where the anime is currently (episode 62, as of the writing of this). I have read the manga, and thus I know what has been going on in the manga and the story will follow the progression of the manga. There will be spoilers for those who have not been watching the fansubs and reading the scanlations, and if you are averse to that it is suggested that you not read this until you've read all of the scanlations or until the fansubbed anime has released a few more episodes.

The reason I am doing this is because I wish to begin with the betrayal (if you would call it that) of Aizen Sousuke, Ichimaru Gin, and Tousen Kaname and the emergence of the Arrancar.

This fanfiction will mainly revolve around my own characters, as it gives me the opportunity to use the rather intriguing world created by Tito Kube, and still give me my own creative license. The names of the Shinigami are Japanese names that I either remember or think I remember and will later be told aren't actually Japanese. The zanpakuto names are indeed Japanese, but are more than likely mangled beyond normal Japanese naming and sentence structure. I am also using the honorifics that the Japanese use to further convey the relationships each of the shinigami have with each other and those around them. If it is needed, I will post a guide to the honorifics and the basic meanings of the honorifics later. I am obviously no expert on Japanese language or culture, so any corrections are greatly appreciated, so long as they are earnest and not meant to be condescending or malicious.

As is probably obvious, I do not own Bleach, the concepts, or the characters from Bleach that will be appearing in this fanfiction. I do own the characters that I myself have created.

Rain fell upon the sleeping Japanese city of Karakura, drenching the streets and forming massive puddles all over the quiet town. The city was lightless save for the ever-present street lamps and a few cars moving carefully towards their destinations. Overhead a pale full moon shone down upon the city, barely illuminating it with its soft glow.

From the window of a small house built on top of a humble clinic, a middle-aged man with a thick build and a goatee stood at the window, watching the rain intently. His hair was slightly spiked, and he wore a garish floral-print shirt and gray slacks.

"It's quiet," he murmured to himself, gazing out into the darkness. In the distance, a roar pierced the night, a roar he knew that few in the city could even imagine, much less hear.

His eyes turned in the direction of the roar as he saw four figures moving swiftly around a large bestial being with a skeletal white mask. The beast was big, probably four stories tall, and it had a vaguely humanoid shape, with two legs and two arms attached to a bulky, black torso with a head. Both the arms and legs were covered with jagged, bony spikes, the ridges forming saw-like blades. On its back were two leathery wings that seemed unable to support its weight but also bore the jagged bony spikes that its arms and legs. It also had a black tail that was covered in protruding spines and ended in a club like knot of bone.

The beast roared in fury as several red flashes emerged from the four figures facing it, exploding on various points around its body. It lashed its tail and wings about as the figures scattered, the steel in their hands shining in the moonlight.

One of the figures jumped forward, smashing the beast's arm. The beast roared in pain as the bones snapped and the arm fell limply to its side, the joint twisted beyond any semblance of normalcy.

Roaring again with rage, the beast turned and swatted the figure that had just injured it with its claw, throwing it into a nearby lamppost. As it did this another figure rose into the air and raised its arms, before bringing them down hard on the beast's masked skull.

A flash of light moved down the beast before it split into two equal halves as it began rapidly dissolving, leaving nothing behind.

"It looks like I'll have some visitors tonight," the man said as he drew a curtain over the window and grabbed a white coat from a nearby rack.

Donning it with no particular hurry, he walked downstairs and leaned against the wall, waiting patiently.

He stood for several moments before opening the door, although there had been no sounds or other indications that anybody was approaching.

At the door stood four figures, two men and two women, dressed in black kimono and hakima. Each wore a white obi, where a katana was sheathed and belted.

One man wore a tattered white haori over his kimono. His hair was black and his face was calm and expressionless. There was no distinction to his face, it was smooth and unlined but completely ordinary in appearance, with an angular jaw, nose and eyes and high cheekbones. His eyes were dark brown, and he wore his hair in a topknot, as was tradition of the samurai of days past.

He and one of the women, a slim woman with a delicate sloping nose and full lips supported another, a bald man with a necklace of black prayer beads and a hardened yet gentle face. The man had several claw wounds in his chest, although the bleeding seemed to have been stopped, and his body was damaged from great impact, several of his bones appearing broken.

The woman who supported him, upon further inspection also wore a white band around her arm with a cracked and broken gold crest. Although it was clear that it had once borne a symbol, any evidence as to what that symbol had been was completely obliterated. Her hair was silver, and fell to her knees, although it had been bound with several white cloth strips into a large ponytail to keep it from getting in the way.

The woman behind them had reddish-gold hair and a thin, somewhat furtive face. Her hair fell just short of her shoulders, and her body was slim and lithe.

"Forgive us for bothering you at such a late hour, Kurosaki-dono," the man in the haori said respectfully. "But you've always been better at this than we are."

"It's no trouble at all, Ryusen-san," Kurosaki replied. He turned to the wounded man and smirked.

"See what I've been saying, Hoshi? You need to stop carrying around that weird zanpakuto of yours. It's only been getting you into trouble."

Hoshi laughed. "Where you see trouble, I instead see a steadfast companion that's seen me through many difficult times and preserved my life on any number of occasions. I would not part with him for the world."

Kurosaki gave a mock sigh and shook his head.

"Kids these days," he muttered. "Well, bring him on in. The girls are asleep, so do try not to wake them. Karin can probably see you by now, and I'd prefer she not find out about all this."

"Of course," Ryusen said as he and the woman carefully guided Hoshi into the clinic.

"You been keeping out of trouble, Tomoe?" Kurosaki called back to the woman who was following behind.

"Yes, Uncle Isshin," she said in a mocking tone. "I've not been out with a human boy once this week."

At this remark, Isshin seemed to tear up. "My dear little niece," he sniffed, his voice heavy with melodrama. "She's finally stopped her shameful and immoral behavior!"

"Stop that," the woman who was supporting Hoshi snapped, her eyes hard.

Isshin chuckled. "I see Tsuko-san still has yet to develop a sense of humor."

"There will be time for humor when my comrade is healed," Tsuko said flatly. "Right now you have a job to do."

"Of course, of course," Isshin said in mock surrender. "By the way, Ryusen-san, old Urahara's been looking for you."

Ryusen's eyes widened slightly, a ripple on an otherwise placid face.

"Since when?" he asked, a slight tinge of wariness in his voice.

"Oh, I don't know. A few days I think. You should go see him."

Ryusen nodded as he and Tsuko laid Hoshi on a table. He looked at her, his eyes filled with the question his lips did not give voice to.

Tsuko nodded. "You are needed, Captain Ryusen. I will make sure this old goat does what he has to."

Ryusen chuckled and seemed to vanish.

"Old goat?" Isshin asked with exaggerated rage, keeping his voice low enough to not wake his slumbering children.


	2. Clogs and the Cat

Chapter 2: Clogs and the Cat

Ryusen seemed to flash into existence outside of the darkened Uruhara shop. He looked around the store carefully, not sure what kind of trap the eccentric ex-captain was hiding.

As he slowly walked forward, the door was suddenly flung open and he was engulfed by a pair of monstrous arms.

"RYUSEN-DONO!" a gruff voice called out with enough volume to wake half of the city block.

The air from Ryusen's lungs was suddenly expelled in a rather spectacular fashion as he was lifted high into the air.

"Tessai-san," Ryusen said in a strained voice. "It… is… good… to… see… you…"

Tessai released Ryusen, who fell to the ground, gasping for air. Adjusting his glasses, he suddenly assumed a stern pose, his apron smooth and his eyes narrow.

"The boss is in the back waiting for you," Tessai said, smoothing his moustache. "Please come in."

Ryusen nodded and entered the shop. As he started to step onto the wooden floor, Tessai cleared his throat loudly.

Ryusen stopped in mid-step, a bit of sweat trickling down his forehead.

"Your sandals, Ryusen-dono," he said gruffly.

"Ah, right right, forgive me," Ryusen said with an apologetic bow.

Removing his sandals, he entered the shop, moving towards the back where the ladder to the cavernous opening Uruhara had made.

Ryusen jumped down and slowly descended into the opening, his kimono billowing about him. Landing lightly on the dirt floor below, he took a few steps forward, into the unnaturally light cave.

His eyes suddenly flew open and in the next instant his zanpakuto was out as Uruhara appeared out of nowhere. His striped hat was somewhat askew, and his everpresent clogs had made deep indentations in the ground, an obvious sign of the lethal speed he had just moved at. His cane-sword was pressed so hard against Ryusen's zanpakuto that a shower of sparks was falling from their blades.

Ryusen's eyes narrowed as they both broke apart, and faced off about twenty feet from each other.

Uruhara laughed as he slung his cane-sword over his shoulder.

"Amazing, Kasen-kun! You've improved!"

Kasen twitched slightly at the use of his given name, but bowed slightly. "Thank you for the compliment, Uruhara-dono," he said respectfully.

Uruhara sighed. "I see you're still as formal as ever too. This is why you've never gotten anywhere with Asani-chan."

Kasen's face turned slightly red and he began sputtering.

Uruhara seemed to vanish. Kasen threw his zanpakuto up and barely managed to block yet another vicious strike from Uruhara's cane sword and turn it aside.

"Oh, very bad very bad Kasen-kun," Uruhara said cheerfully as he whipped his cane sword about, lashing at Kasen seemingly from every direction.

Kasen blocked desperately, taking several cuts as he was slowly backed into the wall.

Throwing Kasen back with a powerful stroke, Uruhara rushed forward, his blade thrusting at Kasen with unbelievable speed.

"Blast spell sixty-three! Raikōhō!" Kasen yelled desperately, extending his hands.

A wave of red energy burst forward, exploding on Uruhara and enveloping him in a thick cloud of smoke.

As the smoke cleared, Uruhara was seen holding his cane sword, a red barrier in front of him.

The cane sword had changed in form, its blade having grown thicker and the handle having transformed into a straight hilt that tapered off into a diagonal end after the length of about two handbreadths. It had no traditional guard, but there was a loop of metal that had three hoop-like protrusions that faced the back of Kisuke's hand. A tassel hung from the back of its hilt, and there was a band of triangles that fluttered from it.

"Incredible!" Kisuke said cheerfully, reversing his blade and returning it to its cane, the blade returning to the normal cane shape and the red barrier vanishing.

"I would expect no less from the former captain of the tenth division."

Kasen brought his blade along his scabbard, using it as a guide to sheathe his weapon.

"So, was there any other reason you wished to see me than to beat me with an inch of my life?" Kasen asked, a bit archly.

Uruhara's eyes flashed and his face became slightly less amused.

"As a matter of fact, there is."

Uruhara adjusted his hat and pointed his cane at the ground.

"Binding Spell number 86, Heavenly Gate!" he said, the ground opening and a circle of light appearing in the middle of the floor.

Kasen watched impassively as the light took shape, revealing a lithe purple-haired woman with dark skin lounging on a bunch of cushions inside what appeared to be a traditional Japanese home, complete with paper doors and bamboo mats. Her chest was bound with bandages, and she was wearing a pair of loose black pants, a bowl of chocolates next to her.

She looked forward, and an annoyed expression flickered across her face. In the next instant the bowl of chocolates came sailing through the gate, hitting Uruhara in the face and knocking him backwards.

"Dammit Kisuke! I told you to warn me before doing this!" she yelled, her fang-like canines barred menacingly.

"Sorry, sorry," he said in a cheerfully apologetic manner, rubbing his head. "But I've someone here who should probably be advised on the situation."

"It's been awhile, Shihouin-sama," Kasen said respectfully, bowing.

Almost immediately a pillow came sailing through the gate, striking Kasen's face.

"It's Yoruichi! Yoruichi!" she said with an exasperated sigh.

"Forgive me, Yoruichi-sama," Kasen said, bowing again.

Yoruichi sighed loudly.

"Oh well, now is not the time, I suppose. Anyway, I'm in the Soul Society at the moment, as I'm sure you've gathered."

Kasen nodded silently.

"A few days ago, it was revealed that a massive chain of events was orchestrated by Aizen Sousuke, Ichimaru Gin, and Kaname Tousen in an effort to obtain the Hōgyoku. While their original plan did not succeed in its entirety, the Chamber of 46 now lies dead, slain at Aizen's own hands, and he has taken possession of the Hōgyoku and retreated to Hueco Mundo, the Hollow World."

Kasen's eyes widened, and his hands began to shake violently.

"The Hōgyoku?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Yoruichi nodded gravely.

"Yes. The item that could very well destroy us all."


End file.
